Misunderstood
by A Warped View Of Reality
Summary: Peter is the son of a winged being who enjoys setting him up with Austrailians, and Peter really does not appreciate Percy Jackson stalking him across Italy, especially when Percy doesn't want to sleep with him, because then it's just not fun.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: DO NOT READ THIS WITHOUT READING MY STORY 'One Fell Swoop' BEFORE! you have been warned._

**Misunderstood**

Chapter One

The thing about Peter Nerucci, is that people always underestimated him. It was what he relied on: that people saw a dumb blonde with an accent in a weird mix of Italian and American and obnoxious fashion sense. But he was much more than that. Which is partly why, when Nico's friend had turned up, Peter wasn't in the bit surprised when he looked up and saw the son of Poseidon standing over them.

Peter knew that Percy Jackson would be good-looking; he could tell _that_ much from the way Nico's pulse reacted every time anything even remotely to do with the sea came up in conversation. But, until now, Peter hadn't known if Nico's infatuation with Percy would ever be returned, but he knew now. Oh, he knew. It was rolling off Percy in waves as he looked at Nico. You didn't have to be the son of the god of lust to be able to tell that.

"Sure. Whatever. Why will nobody _share_ anymore? What's happened to generosity? Caring for your fellow man and his needs or whatever. _I_ have needs! God, I just _hate people who make out with their smoking hot boyfriends in front of me, don't you, 'Ren_?" Peter had stood, scooping up Wren and Keith, and ambled away from the demigods.

He had always been a background player in the modern day mythological world: he was good friends with his da, but Himeros was often too busy deflowering maidens and laughing at the spurned lovers, while his brother, Anteros, hit him over the head with his quiver for mocking the broken-hearted. But the one of the three brothers who Peter really liked was Eros, merely because Eros was _his_ god. The god of sex and beauty and homosexuality. Not that Peter always went for guys, despite the way he acted, but he liked that there was a god looking out for at one half of him at least. Eros himself was fairly cool too, and he always visited Peter when his nephew was at home.

Peter didn't see himself as vain, sure he knew he was good-looking, but he wasn't obsessed by his looks. They were there, and he appreciated them. Simple as.

"Hey, Peter, wait up!"

Peter turned to see Nico jogging towards him. It was the end of their school term, and Peter was all set for a summer back home with his ma and step-dad in Florence.

"Hello, m'dear." Peter smiled, despite himself. Nico had become positively _glowing_ over the last couple of months, and it had done wonders for his looks.

Nico slung an arm around the taller boy's waist, and pulled him into a half-hug. Peter put his arm over Nico's shoulders, and wonders vaguely what his Hades thinks of his son befriending someone like Peter.

"Want some help with the bags?"

"Na, I'm ok, ta. Doing anything fun, besides Percy, over this summer?"

Nico was far too cool to blush, but laughed and stuck his tongue out at Peter. Something he would _never_ have done at the beginning of term. "Not much. I'll probably just hang out with Percy."

Liar, liar. He'd be at Camp Half-Blood with all the others. Peter wasn't the child of the right person to be allowed into the Camp. He didn't care, though. Ok, so he did a bit, but he loved his summers at home, in Florence: the tawny-orange light that lay over the city every sunset, the boutiques, the architecture. He'd lost his virginity in a field of long grass, when light had been golden, and brushed everything in yellow.

"You're going back home, right? To Italy?"

"Of course."

"Have a good time." Hades' son hugged him tightly. "See you."

Peter couldn't help but laugh at that. "You know you will! Can't forget me _that _easily! Don't worry, lover, I'll Iris message you or something, so stop worrying." He was ruffling Nico's hair when he realised what he'd said. So, naturally, he bolted.

He'd lasted for four months! _Four whole months_ without revealing to Nico that he knew all about the Gods, and who his parents were, and then he goes and _ruins_ it!

Peter was hailing a taxi, when he felt a cold wet nose press into the back of a neck. He sighed, and let the hell hound shepherd him into an alley.

Nico was leaning on a wall. He dismissed the mutt with a wave of his hand which he then rubbed over his eyes. "So. I'm guessing you said what I thought you said before, judging from how you can see through the Mist."

Peter shrugged.

"Which god or goddess is it then?"

"Himeros."

"Who?" Peter shot the boy a dark look. "Sorry! So a minor one..."

"Aphrodite's son."

"Isn't that Eros...?"

"Eros' brother, then!"

"Ok, ok. So. Um. Wow. This is unexpected."

"I've got to be at the airport in about an hour, so unless you feel like shadow travel or whatever it is you spawn of Voldemort do." Nico stared at him, looking gobsmacked. "What?"

"Did you just call my dad _Voldemort_?"

"Unless my twin suddenly took my place without you noticing, then yes, I suppose I did."

"Why hasn't the ground _swallowed_ you, or something?"

"Oh, the Gods never pay any attention to little old me! There are _thousands_ of kids like me – children of the Erotes. In case you didn't realise, devilishly handsome, winged demi-gods of love and lust etc, tend to get around a bit. Anyhoo, I've _really_ got be going now, and since it looks unlikely you're going to help me, toodiloo! See you in September!"

Nico, however, appeared to have recovered from his shock. "No. You're not going anywhere. Come on, we're going to my flat."

Peter narrowed his eyes at Nico. "As tempting as being in a small enclosed space with your delectable boyf would be, I'm leaving." His hand wrapped around Peter's arm. The blond stared at it incredulously for a few seconds. "Do you not know who my da is?"

"Um, no, sorry, haven't we already been over this?"

"He controls lust, unrequited love, that sort of thing."

"And..."

"I've inherited some of his abilities, along with a stunning IQ from my mother's side of the family. And I know your deepest, darkest fear." Peter's voice was instantly more serious, so Nico knew he wasn't joking around. Nico's face drained of colour. "I could make it happen, too."

Nico looked like he _really_ wanted to punch him, so Peter slipped away quickly, out of fear for his face. His da would never forgive him if his favourite son's nose was marred forever. Nico didn't try to stop him.

Peter was soon in Rome. He loved the city, which is why he usually spent a few days there, before returning home, but not this time it seemed.

Himeros was waiting for me, along with Anteros, both attracting a fair amount of longing gazes. Peter got his hair and eyes from his ma, but everything else from his da, which Peter was pleased about. His da was tall and handsome, and very obviously not Italian with his white-blond hair that contrasted starkly with his deeply tanned skin. Anteros looked similar, but was dressed more smartly, in an expensive suit, while Himeros lounged elegantly against his brother in jeans and a half-open white shirt. But what none of the humans could see were the feathery wings sprouting from both of their backs, fluttering lightly in the draft from outside.

"Peter!" Himeros swung him into a close embrace, as did Anteros, though he held his nephew for longer, smiling into the blond curls. "How was school? Himeros asked, reverting to Italian.

"It was ok. Got Hades' kid for a roommate."

"Yes, I'd heard. Him and that son of Poseidon make _such_ a cute couple. No doubt you had something to do with that?"

"No doubt." Peter said. Anteros smiled, as approving as ever of two people in love. "Where's Eros?"

"Calming down Mama. She had one of her episodes last week."

"Oh."

"You've been getting attention, boy." Himeros remarked as they strolled out into the sunlight, after Anteros had offered to help Peter with his bags. He was too nice for his own good. "People _high up_ are noticing you."

Peter couldn't help but smile, and wind a golden curl around his index finger, thinking of the story of Ganymede. He had been pretty, like Peter was, and had been made the cup bearer to the Gods for it. Not that Peter would settle for something so mediocre as being a _cup bearer_, but becoming immortal was Peter's aim in life, and one he intended to fulfil.

"Has my grandma recognized me?"

"You mean your other one? No, of course not."

"Oh."

Himeros shot his son an odd look as they paused, waiting for Anteros to catch them up. "Don't tell me that you want to be able to go to Camp Wannabe-Hero? Stay here with us. You'll get laid much more often. Speaking off," His da tilted his head towards a cluster of girls chattering in loud Australian accents. "Now they all want you." Sure enough, they were suddenly silent, and staring at Peter with hungry expressions. "Call it my welcome home present."

"Thanks, Da."

"Let them done easy after, won't you? I mean, it's just basic lust, I'm not Mama, after all, but in case your charming personality has any lasting effects, be nice. Anteros would have my head otherwise."

Peter smiled, not taking his eyes off the girls. "I'll meet you at the villa in a couple of days. I've got money to last me until then."

"Enjoy yourself, boy." His da patted his shoulder then left in a powerful flap of his wings. Anteros followed shortly.

Soon the girls were all around him, touching him teasingly, grazing their fingertips over his skin, as if unable to believe their luck. Peter smiled.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Peter was _really_ starting to find the increasing regularity of his person being thrown bodily into an alley rather irritating.

"This is a bit of a road trip for you, isn't it?" He asked Percy Jackson coolly.

"What did you do to Nico!" Being the rough brute he is, Percy had his arm across Peter's windpipe and his back pressed painfully against the wall. To their right, Peter could hear the chatter of Italians going about their business in their capital. He'd left the girls' hotel feeling considerably more relaxed and more at home already, only to find himself accosted barely three streets later.

"Oh, _careful_, Perce, you should know that I'm into the whole pain thing. Press any _hard_er on my throat and I might just get _excited_."

He growled in anger and did it anyway. Not one to go back on his word, Peter promptly rolled his hips into Percy's side to prove his point. Percy stared at him. "Are you fucking _kidding_ me?"

"Take out kidding, and my answer is in all likelihood, soon."

He gave Peter a disgusted look and stepped away. "Tell me what you said to Nico before you left."

Peter decided to be nice and humour Percy. He wasn't used to remembering information, being a live-in-the-moment kind of guy, but he thought. And thought. "Oh, well I told him I knew what his deepest fear was, and how I could make it become reality. Do you mean that?"

Percy looked stunned. "What were you talking about, how could you know what it was?"

Peter shrugged. "He knows who my grandma is, so given that I assumed it was to do with you, should I want to I could see what he's so worried about. But it would take a while for me to shift through all that useless info 'bout just how darned sexy he thinks you are, and I couldn't be bothered, so I guessed."

"You don't really know."

"Keep up, keep up. All brawn and no brains, eh?"

"He's avoiding me for no reason! Well whatever it was you _guessed at_, it hurt him pretty badly, you bastard." He looked like he'd like nothing better than to drown Peter where he stood. Peter knew he wouldn't, so deemed it safe to taunt just a little bit more.

"Does Annabeth know you're here? Or why?" The blond asked innocently.

A shadow passed over Percy's face. "You're coming with me." He growled, grabbing Peter's arm in a vice-like grip.

"Uh, no. And you can't make me... unless... I'll go with you if you can get me an audience with Athena."

Percy gaped, then seemed to collect himself somewhat and said, "No promises, but I can try. Come on."

Peter allowed himself to be manhandled further down the street, where a horse with wings was waiting. "Uh, no. You want me to go with you to the Big Apple, then we're going by plane. End of discussion." Percy visibly paled. "Come on, you wimp. And don't worry about being blown out of the sky, or anything. Aphrodite loves me and would never let Zeus hurt my pretty face. Besides, you can't be _that_ important. Not anymore, at least, what with the world safe from impending doom and all."

Percy glowered furiously. "Fine." He muttered, then turned to the mutant horse and whispered something gently in its ear. It shot me a dirty look before soaring away. "You better pay for our flights, 'cause I'm sure as hell not going to."

"Relax, big boy, one flash of my cute dimples and we'll have two first class tickets. Might roll up your sleeves a bit for good measure, give 'em some flesh." Percy's glare intensified and Peter shrugged. "Oh well, have it your way. I'll just have to rely on _my_ charm."

*

Peter was flirting outrageously in Italian with the brunette air hostess when Percy fainted.

"Oh, just leave him, it's probably better," Peter told the doctor who was conveniently sitting to their left. "He hates being in the air." He explained to the Italian girl.

She smiled, and nodded understandably. "Can I fetch him anything?" She asked, fulfilling her duties. Peter shook his head. "What about you, sir?" Her smile turned seductive. Peter always had preferred flirting in Italian, rather than English: it was so much more romantic.

"The pleasure of your company would be a start."

She glanced down the gangway at where her co-workers were throwing her jealous looks.

"That's something I'd have no problem in giving you. So, is he your boyfriend?" She asked quickly, giving Percy's unconscious form an appreciative look.

"Yeah," Peter confirmed. The brunette's expression lit up, clearly picturing the two of them together. She arched a questioning eyebrow at Peter. "But I'm not ready to be exclusive yet." He added, leaning forward.

*

"What the hell do you know about what Percy wants?" The much-loved hero himself winced as he heard the girl's, who Peter presumed must be Annabeth, loud and angry voice.

"Because I-"

Percy slammed the door open before Nico could say what we all already knew. As Percy stood in the doorway, looking at his girlfriend and his bit on the side, Peter was abruptly aware if who Percy loved more. Aphrodite's grandson could feel the jealousy radiating from Annabeth - a gorgeous blonde, he noted with interest - but Nico just wanted to kiss Percy, welcome him home, tell him how very much he'd missed him. Anteros would be pleased that Nico's love wasn't unrequited, and Peter had to admit that he was too: Nico had grown on him over the last few months. Percy, meanwhile, was evidently struggling to keep his gaze off Nico's face.

Peter needed to talk to Annabeth anyway, so whispered in Percy's direction, "Go on." Then stepped past Percy and Nico, scooped up his cousin and marched into what Peter presumed was her and Percy's bedroom. "Hello, I'm Peter."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Peter had got her to play board games with him. He achieved this by simply flashing his most charming smile, laying on the Italian accent more thickly than ever, and using long words and complex sentences to prove his intelligence. He could tell she didn't like just how attracted she was to him, but couldn't help herself.

He gave her a grin, "It's your go."

"Oh. Oh, right, yeah." Peter leant over the chess board, and put his hand on hers.

"Calm down," He whispered, letting his breath ghost over her lips. He felt her shiver. "Think before you make your move." She nodded faintly. "After all, you don't want to lose to _me_ now, do you?"

Something flashed in her eyes as he moved in, and she pushed him away from her suddenly. He lifted himself up onto his elbows and raised his eyebrows at her. She stared at him for a second or so, then crawled over the floor onto his lap, holding her hands on his chest so he couldn't sit up.

In the next room, Peter could hear the erratic paces of Percy's and Nico's pulses. He smiled up at Annabeth, slipped a hand into her hair and pulled her down.

*

As it turned out, she refused go through with the deed. But the damage had been done, in Peter's eyes at least. Annabeth didn't seem bothered by the fact she'd cheated on her boyfriend in their bed, and Percy didn't notice the smouldering looks that Peter directed to the room at large over breakfast the next morning were returned by his girlfriend.

They split up that evening. Both seemed to be devastated by this, which Peter didn't get, since they both _wanted_ this to happen. But Peter was always finding relationships confusing, and unexpected. Better off without, he thought.

But then, as clichés inevitably crop up when the hero says something along those lines, Peter found something that made him rethink his mantra. Which Peter hated to do. Because really, rethink your mantra, and what's left to live for? Not much, in Peter's opinion. But evidently Percy and Annabeth had rethought theirs. No longer the golden demi-god couple, united despite their parents' friction, withstanding wars, and coming out triumphant. And yet destroyed by a skinny kid with a nasty smoking habit – not that Peter could really talk –, a mop of dark hair that was just _begging_ to have product smeared into it, and who wore jeans that had to be at least two sizes too small. Peter was almost jealous of Nico's achievement: surely a love affair this devastating _had_ to involve at least involve one of Aphrodite's relatives?

Back to Peter's identity-crisis, because this is really all about Peter, and if you stray away from him, then it's just a story with none of the jazz that Peter strews in his trail wherever he goes.

After Annabeth left, Percy and Nico seemed to retreat into their own little love nest, but Peter didn't leave. Percy said he'd take him to see Athena, and Percy _would_ fulfil that promise; Peter would see to it. But until Percy withdrew from the phase he was in – attempting to dry-hump Nico at every possible opportunity – Peter would have to be content with waiting. And so he waited. And waited.

And, as anybody who has to wait for an immeasurable period of time, and particularly one with an attention span as short as Peter's, needs to find a way to distract oneself. So Peter did, often two a night, sometimes more.

And then Peter found the ultimate distraction: a girl who simply refused to be wooed. He was ordering coffee in one of New York's numerous arty coffee shops, there with the expressed intention of finding poets who liked to talk about true love and their souls, and spiritual sex had to be. They were always up for a quickie.

Peter had located his targets – a couple twined around each other, her with dreadlocks, him with lip ring – when he came face to face with an ass. An what an ass. Clad in paint splattered jeans, a pink handprint of the left cheek, and that was just _waiting_ for Peter to touch it. So, being a creature of impulse, he did.

The girl squealed, fell off her stepladder (which explained, Peter noted, what her ass was doing at his eyelevel) into Peter's waiting arms. He smiled, "Need a hand?"

She flushed scarlet and straightened herself. "No. I mean, thank for catching me, but no. Was that you? Definitely no." She picked up her cap and put it firmly on her head. Green eyes sparkled – Unintentionally, he guessed, since, in his experience, women's eyes only tended to sparkle when they were interested in you, which this girl seemed not to be. Odd. – at Peter, and she added, as an afterthought. "Creep."

"Me?" Peter exclaimed in mock-hurt. "You wound me with your accusation! By the Gods, I must shrivel up here, never to reawaken!" She didn't seem amused by his dramatics.

"You're a half-blood."

Peter gaped, still looking devilishly handsome, since he'd long since perfected the art of looking stunning even when doing something so unattractive such as gaping.

"And I didn't see you coming..." This was half to herself, as she stared at him.

"Why, that must make you the new Oracle of Delphi! I've been meaning to find you and have a chat, here, pull up a chair." He made her sit, then smiled expectantly. "Oh, but I'm not a half-blood. Well, not really. Kind of."

"How can you 'kind of' be a half-blood?" She asked, mimicking him.

"_Well_. Since you'll probably know this all soon enough anyway, my grandmamma is Aphrodite. And my da is Himeros."

"Who? I'm a bit new at this, sorry."

"For the love of-! Fine. Himeros is Eros' brother. You _have_ heard of Eros, right?"

She nodded in his direction absentmindedly. "That's not it though, there's more. I can see it."

"Yes, yes there is."

"Are you going to tell me?"

"What's you name?"

"Rachel."

"Pretty. In that case, Rachel, I'll tell you tonight." Peter stood, smiling his charming smile down at her.

"Tonight?" She tried to raise on eyebrow, but failed, so settled for lifting them both.

"You know Percy's apartment? Pick me up at seven." With that, he winked and left, feeling accomplished.

_AN: likes? dislikes? i know this chapter has a different narrative style, but i felt like it :/ sorry for those who dont like it - but tell me! thank you soo much to all those who have reviewed - totally made my day :D_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"Hot date?" Nico asked, smirking as he leant against the doorto the bathroom, arms forded over a bare chest. Peter grinned at him thorugh the mirror as the blond fixed his hair.

"Smoking."

Nico laughed, "Girl or guy?"

"Girl. Redhead; fiesty little thing. An older woman, too."

He looked impressed, "Nice. Go back to her place though, would you? I've got something planned here."

"Romantic meal?" He asked lightly, turning to face Nico and leaning back against the sink.

"Yeah," Nico grinned, "Percy's been at Camp all day talking to Chiron, so he'll want to relax when he gets home."

"Relax, eh?" Peter leered.

"Filthy-minded pervert." Nico muttered, but he was smiling as he took a gentle swipe at Peter's head.

"Hey! Don't mess up perfection!" Peter cried, fluttering his hands around his hair frantically.

The doorbell went.

"She's picking _you_ up? Cheapskate, Gods, the things you can get people to do for you!" Peter gave Nico a lecherous look. "She paying for dinner too?" Nico mocked as he made his way to the door. "I'll let in the hot ginger granny while you finishing primping."

Peter grunted in response, his tongue sticking out the corner of his mouth as he concentrated.

"Hey, Rach, long time no see; your dreams came true, by the way, thanks."

"It's fine! Everyone's _soo_ happy for you both!" Peter could hear the smile in her voice.

"Erm, no offence, Rach, but Percy's kinda coming home soon, and our lodger's about to go out too, so I can't really talk right now – soon though, promise. _Peter_! Get your ass out here and meet the Oracle!"

Peter sauntered down the hallway, already smiling. It'd been a while since he'd been on a proper date, and he was surprised to find that he was looking forward to it.

"You look nice, Rach, going somewhere?"

"Uh, well, yeah..."

"Rachel, lovely to see you again." Peter said, putting a firm hand on her waist and bending down to kiss her cheek. "Right on time, too."

Nico's mouth had fallen open.

"Good, erm, yeah, right. Good." She murmured, though as to whether she was talking to herself, or him, or Nico, Peter couldn't tell.

Peter beamed at her indulgently. Nico seemed to still be a in some state of shock.

"Shall we go, then? I've booked us a table at a simply _divine_ restaurant, and from I thought we could go, well, we'll see, won't we?" Nico abruptly burst into a peal of laughter. "Are you quite alright?"

"P, perfectly!" Another burst of giggles.

"Righto, let's get going then, Rachel."

She allowed Peter to push her gently in the direction of the door, shooting Nico worried looks as she went.

"_Gods_, Peter! The only teenage divinely-protected _virgin_! _You_! And _Rachel_!" Nico was doubled over, clutching at his stomach now.

"Wait, what?" Peter asked, confused.

"You do know that Rachel's virginity is protected by Apollo, right?" Nico asked, grinning broadly.

Peter gaped. This was... He'd never seriously fancied someone he'd not ended up sleeping with – and Rachel had been swiftly growing on him. Still. She'd probably want to renounce being an Oracle after tonight, anyway. Peter turned a charming smile upon Rachel, "Really? Oh, well I can't see how that'd affect my decision to take her to dinner, do you, Nico?"

Nico, however, appeared to be incapable of replying.

"Thought as much. Shall we?" Peter offered his arm to Rachel, who, had been nervously chewing on her bottom lip, released it, stared into his face for a couple of seconds, then took his arm and ducked her head.

* * *

"-and she was a Siren all along!" Rachel laughed at Peter's story. Peter was perturbed. That was the most amusing story he had in his arsenal, and she'd barely tittered!

He smiled at her softly, and lent over the table. "So, Rachel, tell me all about yourself. From the beginning – I want to know everything about you." That was usually a killer line with girls, since then they would talk and talk and talk, and all Peter had to do was laugh, nod, and look sympathetic in the right places, and they pegged him as a 'good listener' (and therefore a good guy).

"Erm, well, rich parents, I moved out a little while ago, studying art." She said matter-of-factly. Silence. This was going well.

"So, what was the whole eternal virgin thing about?" _Yeah, great ice-breaker, Peter._

She paled, opened her mouth to answer, then looked sharply to her left. Her eyes went very wide, and she shouted, "Peter, get _down_!" Then the nice waiter, who'd given them free garlic bread, exploded.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The nice exploding waiter, rather predictably, turned out to be Apollo. He looked furious, very impressive, and mouth-wateringly yummy in a waiter's uniform. Peter beamed.

"Nerucci, is it? Come on, we're leaving." The god of poetry grabbed Peter's arm, and manhandled him out of the restaurant. Peter began to formulate a plan, only to find his brain had become fuzzy, and his legs wobbly.

"Th...the garlic bread – you _drugged_ me!"

Apollo nodded. "I thought you'd cause less trouble being taken to your death if you were unconscious. We're going to Olympus."

"Oh...goodie..." Then darkness swallowed him, just as he heard Rachel's furious cry.

* * *

"-completely outrageous! I demand that you step _away_ from my grandson this instant! _Ares_!" The clear ringing tones were spoiled as she whined Ares' name pathetically.

"Uh, no. Don't bring me into this."

"He's your grandson too!"

"Aw, shucks."

"The boy is awake." A quiet, male voice said. Silence reigned and Peter took this opportunity to crack open an eyelid. He was lying on the floor, surrounded by the Olympians. Lordy.

Apollo was bent over him, white with rage and a long, gold ceremonial dagger in his hand, the kind they use for sacrifices. A little behind Apollo was a startlingly beautiful women who, to Peter's ever-lasting concern given how she appeared different to everybody, looked a little like Rachel. Half-off his throne was a tall, brutishly sized guy with flames for eyes – and who could really benefit from a bit of foundation, in Peter's humble opinion – and must be Ares.

Peter's gaze continued around the room – Hermes, Zeus, Poseidon, Demeter, a few empty thrones, and Athena. Peter smiled and climbed to his feet. Apollo hissed and moved the blade closer to his throat.

"Peter! Darling!" Aphrodite flowed towards Peter, snatching up his hands and kissing him. "Your father is on his way, and your uncle is waiting outside. They all love you very much, you know."

Peter nodded, "Which uncle?"

"Eros, of course. Now, let us forget all this silliness, and you can come and have margaritas in my rooms."

"Not so fast, Aphrodite. This boy has tried to desecrate the Oracle." Peter got the feeling that it was very rare for Apollo to be so serious, judging from the surprised looks on the other gods' faces.

"He has done nothing of the sort! He was merely taking her out to dinner!" Aphrodite laughed at the absurdity.

"And what usually follows 'dinner' with a child of Aphrodite?"

"ENOUGH." Oh. Well then. Zeus had more balls than Peter had ever given him credit for (if Aphrodite was anything like her sons when she got mad, he didn't want to be in Apollo's – or now Zeus' – shoes). "Apollo, would you please refrain from slaughtering Aphrodite's favourite grandson-" Peter's grin stretched wider. He _knew_ that he was favourite. "-like a sacrificial bull, since I haven't had my espresso yet-" A glare at Hermes, who shrugged apologetically. "-and I'm not in the mood to stop Ares from killing you."

"I can slaughter him like a sacrificial pig, if you want. I'm not fussed which farmyard animal he is." Apollo sent me a dangerous grin.

A shriek erupted outside.

Zeus looked tired as he rubbed his eyes and said, "Bring in the Oracle before she ruins my new doors."

Apollo inclined his head, and strode off to let a highly pissed off Rachel in. She marched in, right up to Zeus and said angrily, "You have _no_ right to kill Peter! He wasn't _planning_ any advances on me, he _knew_ about the whole eternal virgin shebang, and he _still _took me out, yeah? If you kill him, then I'll call upon the spirits of Delphi to torment you for the rest of eternity, and you _know_ how long that will be, yeah?" Apollo looked torn between laughing and throttling Rachel.

Zeus, however, looked solemn as he replied, "As you wish, Oracle. Release him. You may leave now."

Rachel gave me a faint smile as she strode past, and Aphrodite glowed at me warmly before floating back over to her throne. Apollo growled under his breath and threw himself into his throne, looking annoyed.

"Wait." Peter said firmly. "I have something to say."


End file.
